


Different Ways to Score

by SenTheSeventh



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Demon Anatomy, Devil Trigger (Devil May Cry), Devil Trigger Sex, Double Penetration, Humor, Incest, Intersex Devil Trigger forms, M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Parent/Child Incest, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sibling Incest, Twincest, Uncle/Nephew Incest, We're just missing a cousin to reach Incest Combo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-17
Updated: 2019-08-17
Packaged: 2020-09-05 22:34:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20280952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SenTheSeventh/pseuds/SenTheSeventh
Summary: "The twins kept having those petty quarrels where they bickered about nothing yet craved each other’s presence too much to leave. In those moments, they reminded Nero of two big cats – irritated by another predator’s presence in their territory, exploding in occasional bouts of aggression to establish dominance, yet prone to falling asleep in the same bed as soon as they’d gotten it out of their system."Dante and Vergil are in a competitive mood. Nero is not having it.





	Different Ways to Score

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sootandshadow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sootandshadow/gifts).

> This was written as a present for [Sootandshadow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sootandshadow/), smut peddler of high-quality Spardacest content. You're kind, funny, talented and patient, and I count myself so incredibly lucky to have you as my betareader ❤
> 
> I'd like to thank the amazing [Vorokis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vorokis/pseuds/vorokis) for wrangling this into shape! If you want more *cough* deep story-driven fics *cough* after this, I'd <s>order</s> encourage you to check out [Worship in the Bedroom](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19282438), their very, very hot and very, very well-written Dante/Vergil fic. It's full of sharp banter and violent, vivid attraction between the twins and it's hot and beautiful and you should read it!
> 
> As usual, I hope you enjoy this fic and wish you all a lovely day ❤

Nero came home late that night. He’d overstayed at Kyrie’s place to help her with renovation – so she wasn’t his girlfriend anymore, she was still his family – but he’d wanted to see the twins, having missed them after a few weeks of hunting, and Nico had been game for a bit of overnight driving. The fewer obstacles there were on her quest to test the van’s ever-expanding speed limit, the happier she felt.

“Give the twins a goodnight kiss from me!” she called, wriggling her eyebrows at him.

Nero rolled his eyes at her. Officially, she was the only one who knew about his relationship with the twins, though Trish and Lady couldn’t be more obvious about their suspicions if they tried; the former was all knowing smiles and the later was all knowing glares. Seeing Dante artfully pretending he didn’t notice them would have been hilarious in any other situation. Given the circumstances, though, Nero died a little inside each time Lady pointedly sat between him and Vergil in the van.

Dante was napping on the couch when Nero came in. Nero kicked it, making the wood rattle. “Get up! We’re going to bed.”

His uncle switched back to awareness as easily as blinking, pale blue eyes sizing him up through the ostentatious show he made of yawning and stretching. “Nero? You’re up after eight? It’s far past your bedtime; where’s your father?”

“Har, har, hilarious. Come on, old man, you should know it’s bad for your geriatric back to sleep on the couch.”

Dante grinned at him, unmoving. “You gonna princess-carry me?”

Nero grabbed him by the hips and swung him over his shoulder like a bag of potatoes. Dante yelped and laughed, wriggling into a more comfortable position, hands grabbing at Nero’s belts for support before he copped a feel. Nero yelped and almost let go.

“Dante!”

Dante shushed him. “You’re gonna wake Vergil up!”

Nero growled, tempted to just drop him on the floor. “Dante, you’re the most _puerile _asshole in the whole _fucking _universe!”

“Aw, kid, you sound so much like your father sometimes.”

“You grope me again, I’m dragging your ass feet first up the stairs.”

“Stop tempting me, you harlot.”

Despite the big talk, Dante did behave as Nero hauled him upstairs, toward the bedroom Vergil had demanded for when he visited his brother – Dante technically had one, but it was such a mess that you had to throw weapons, boxes, and possibly sensitive artifacts aside to lay in the month-old sheets.

The door opened before Nero had to ponder about the logistics of freeing a hand while still wrangling Dante. Dressed in expensive blue pajamas that wouldn’t have looked out of place in a fancy dinner and holding the Yamato at his side just _because_, Vergil arched a brow.

“I see that you indulged Dante’s whims.”

“That’s because _Nero_, unlike my big brother, is kind.”

“I’m not talking to your legs, Dante. Get off Nero.”

“Make me.”

Nero cut to the chase by throwing his idiot uncle at his idiot father. Dante was gracious enough to play the missile – Nero had no doubt about his uncle’s ability to cling to him if he so chose – but Vergil parried him with the Yamato. Dante laughed and twisted to land in a kneeling position, Royal Guarding from a slash before he summoned Balrog for a punch. Nero counted to five, letting them exchange a few blows, before he roared.

“Stop it, you morons!”

To his utter lack of surprise, there was no reaction from the two berserkers damaging _Devil May Cry_ property _yet again_. Usually, a few shouts could calm them down, but Nero knew what a clingy, uncooperative Dante sleeping on the sofa meant: the twins were in a pissy mood, itching for a fight – or one more fight – and they’d need a touch of reason.

Reason meaning “violence” in context.

They were focused on each other, which made it easy to grab them with his wings. Vergil reflexively went for a defensive attack, but Dante caught his arm with both hands to protect Nero.

Nero knocked them together with all his strength, letting the two dazed half-demons drop to the floor.

“That enough for you, dumbasses?” he snarled, crossing his human arms while the demon ones hovered threateningly over his shoulders.

“There was no need for this. I was only settling matters with your uncle,” Vergil said, because he would die if he didn’t have the last word.

“Your uncle” was word for “I’m pissed at Dante.” It wasn’t serious, else Vergil would be back at his own place. They kept having those petty quarrels where they bickered about nothing yet craved each other’s presence too much to leave. In those moments, they reminded Nero of two big cats – irritated by another predator’s presence in their territory, exploding in occasional bouts of aggression to establish dominance, yet prone to falling asleep in the same bed as soon as they’d gotten it out of their system.

Savior, Nero was too fucking exhausted for this.

“I give, I give!” Dante said, smiling – the perfect twin to his dumbass brother. “I don’t want to keep my cute nephew up just because his father wants to play.”

It was nothing short of a small miracle that they managed to end their quarrels when they were both so determined to get the last laugh. Nero rubbed the bridge of his nose, struggling with the need to punch them both again. He’d just wanted to sleep. And maybe have a cuddle.

“Listen, I’m wasted. I came here just to be with you, not to get stuck in the middle of one of your spats. I’m taking a shower and when I get out, either we’re all sleeping together on the bed or I’m sleeping on the couch.”

Vergil bristled. Dante tsk-ed, vexed, before smiling with ostentatious relaxation. Nero didn’t press the matter – he’d already pushed hard enough – and went straight to the bathroom.

When he returned to Vergil’s bedroom, the twins were waiting for him. They grabbed him at the same time, reflexively snarling at each other before a growl from Nero stopped them.

Dante nibbled at his lips, almost apologetic. Vergil kissed his shoulder, sliding one hand to his naked belly.

“I said I wanted to sleep,” Nero pointed out.

Vergil’s hand brushed his hip, making him shiver. “You didn't say _when_. I’m sure we can help you get there faster.”

“I’m an objective third party and I concur,” Dante said before he sucked a kiss mark onto Nero’s throat.

Nero _really _wanted to sleep. He was feeling more and more aroused, though, especially as the twins’ hands intertwined on his body. There was nothing hotter than when they moved so harmoniously because they both wanted him – working together, finally, and more: working together for _him_.

Might as well give them a reward, he reasoned. Might as well give _himself _a reward.

Closing his eyes, Nero nuzzled Vergil’s shoulder. The temptation to kiss his father’s throat, or maybe scrape his teeth against vulnerable skin, was strong as ever, but that was the surest way to turn the sex violent and Nero could enjoy it, sometimes, liked the rush and the pain far more than he cared to admit – but right now, he was sleepy and he just wanted some love.

One of the two ruffled his hair and he groaned in protest.

“You’re wrecked, kid.” Dante’s voice, warm with affection. His short nails traced the muscles of Nero’s back, making him shiver, before Dante pushed them so that Vergil was resting on his back and Nero was laying on him, breathing in his father’s scent – a demonic twinge of otherworldliness intermingled with something musky, almost human, _his kin_. Strong, healthy, familiar. No trace of Dante’s smell on him, which confirmed Nero’s suspicions: usually, the twins marked each other as soon as they met (and then snarled or batted the other’s hand away, because of course they had to show dominance).

They’d fought before Nero arrived. Stupid assholes. Stupid infighting assholes. Since they were currently both petting him, however, he felt inclined to forget the ache of irritation in his belly and focus instead on his growing arousal.

“_Some of us _have busy days,” Nero groaned against the curve of Vergil’s shoulder. “_You’re_ doing the work today.”

“Wanna be spoiled?” Dante asked, grinning against his shoulder blades, making Nero shiver.

“I deserve it for dealing with the two of you,” Nero mumbled.

His uncle laughed against the curve of his spine. Vergil snorted, whether in laughter or derision.

“You’ve spoiled him too much, Dante. He’s getting cocky.”

“Not my fault! I found him like that.”

“Will you two shut up and get on with it?”

“Needy,” Vergil chided him.

“Yeah, I am, so what are you going to do about it?”

Dante laughed again, reflexive irritation running down Nero’s spine before soft, warm lips instantly kissed it better, accompanied by the deliberate caress of Vergil’s fingertips on his hips. Nero sighed and relaxed against the sensation, letting his father’s hands hold him open to Dante’s caresses. His cheeks flushed with heat when his uncle whistled appreciatively, grazing the inside of his thigh with lube-soaked fingers.

“You should see him like this, Vergil...”

The praise sent something warm to Nero’s chest, butterflies in his stomach. Vergil didn’t answer, patiently keeping his son in place as his twin’s fingers slowly opened him up. Nero sighed in loud pleasure and attempted to push his hips into the touch, instantly frustrated by his father’s firm grip. He bared his teeth, clasping Vergil’s arms a little tighter, and was ignored.

_Needy_. As if they could reproach him for that when they were the ones feeding his addiction.

Nero could have fought back; he just didn’t want to. Instead, he grabbed his father’s face and pulled himself up for a violent kiss, biting and sucking at those deceivingly soft lips while Dante fingered him open. Vergil nipped him sharply, letting him feel his displeasure, and Nero’s heart skipped a beat at the pang of pain – need twisting his belly, overriding anger. He licked at his father’s mouth in not-quite-apology, softer and tender for now, and Vergil accepted him with princely benevolence.

Nero’d been the one who taught the twins how to kiss… not _gently_, they didn’t do gentle, but _carefully _– that was the word, that was the way they touched him; slowly, deliberately, focused on his reaction. They didn’t do care with each other, intertwined as they were in violent, loving competition. They took, tore whatever they wanted from their brother, regardless of the pain, and they bled and they lusted and that was (so fucking hot, he _wanted_) not Nero’s thing.

He was human.

(Mostly.)

So they’d learned, with him. Not naturally, because they didn’t know how to give if you didn’t grab on and shouted, but he’d gotten good at demanding and they cared enough to try. Vergil kissed him, violence contained as he explored Nero’s mouth and caressed his tongue. Dante took him slowly, waiting for a groan of approval before he began thrusting in a slow, deliberate rhythm that felt much more intense when Vergil held Nero immobile, forcing him to take it just as his brother intended.

Any other time Nero would have fought it just for fun, just to feel their hands grip him hard enough to hurt. He’d come in wanting to be spoiled, though, so he moaned in appreciation and curved his back, helping Dante find the right angle, the one that ground deep inside him, made him _feel _the most, waves of electric pleasures buzzing in his muscles and his spine.

He wanted more. Needed more. His position – pressed against Vergil, their cocks aligned together – didn’t allow him to touch himself properly, but slow and steady wasn’t enough for him anymore and lust was grabbing him harder now, sweat making the twins’ hands slip on his body, adding salt to the copper of his kisses.

“Vergil,” Nero gasped – not pleading, he’d never plead, but he needed –

“Dante,” Vergil called. “Nero is getting bored.”

“Asshole,” Dante half-growled and half-chuckled.

But then he was pounding Nero with short, sharps thrust that Vergil’s grip on his hips forced him to meet without any recoil. Bursts of pleasure gripped Nero, tearing vocal moans from his throat – swallowed, soon, between Vergil’s lips, less a kiss than a mingling of breath –

Cursing, Nero curled his back to awkwardly touch himself and Vergil. The angle was wrong, uncomfortable, sweaty fingers sliding over sensitive skin, but his father grunted, hips twitching, and the feeling of power and the friction and Dante impaling him over and over, the sharp press of him inside Nero –

Then an explosion of sensation, everything white-hot and oversensitive for a moment, trembling through his limbs; last sparks of pleasure twitching inside of him.

Dante kissed his sweaty nape, licking at the bead of sweat between his shoulder blades, and slid outside of him, leaving behind the pleasant ache of good sex. Fuck, Nero hadn’t thought about the fact that he’d need another shower when he’d agreed to this.

“Want to finish together, Vergil?” Dante offered. His voice was rough, panting. 

Arousal warmed Nero’s post-coital glow; he liked seeing Dante undone more than he cared to admit.

“I’ll be fine,” Vergil stated. He almost kept an even tone. Overcontrolled asshole.

“You’re the sulkiest dumbass I’ve ever known,” Dante declared in the light, relaxed tone that Nero had learned meant, “_I’m pissed off_.” 

Nero grunted in disapproval, tension prickling back along his spine. Where they really going to be so _stupid _that –

“‘Sulkiest’ is not a word, Dante.”

“So sorry I hurt your fragile ears, Vergil.”

“Oh, screw this!” Nero exclaimed in exasperation, taken out of his glow. “I’m sleeping on the couch!”

Instant regret overcame him: he should have kicked _them _out, rather than himself. Vergil’s bed was amazingly comfy.

“Come on, Nero–” Dante began in a soothing voice.

“I’m the one who will leave,” Vergil cut in calmly. “Since the conflict came from us–”

“No. _You _made your bed, you don’t get to play the ‘nobly departing to brood from a vantage point’ card. _I_’m leaving and you two stay here alone with your dumbassery!”

Dante groaned. “Don’t be like that–”

“I’ll be like whatever I want!”

The reply made absolutely no sense, but it was spat out aggressively enough that none of the twins thought to remark on it (though Vergil did raise a judgemental eyebrow). Dante simply raised his hands in defeat, while Vergil sulked with fake indifference. It was hard to exit with dignity without any clothes, but Nero had anger on his side. None of the twins came to bother him as he took another shower and hunted for a new pair of boxers in his emergency stash, which was just as well: he felt up to tearing them a new one if they ever dared to try his patience with some dumbass excuse.

He tossed and turned wrathfully for at least a few seconds before he crashed and fell asleep.

***

It was the twins’ mingled voices that woke Nero up – the loud whispers of men who’d never had to rely on domestic discretion at any time in their lives. He reluctantly let himself be dragged back to awareness, keeping his face buried in one of the sofa’s cushions. He had yet to decide if he would stay mad at the two assholes, if he’d try improving their hostile mood, or both; for now, better just to lie just where he was and listen to the twins as they chatted on the mezzanine, having apparently forgotten that Nero was downstairs and could hear them perfectly.

“At least _thirteen_,” Dante said, sounding smug.

“Much less.”

“Yeah, yeah, I _counted_.”

“You’re also counting your fantasies, brother.”

“Am not, asshole.” Dante’s voice was almost fond. What the hell were they competing about, _again_? The twins lived for challenges – who’d kill the most prey this round, who’d win the most duels this month, stupid shit. They were probably counting victories or something, but the number felt… weird. Too low for the month’s tally.

“It’s better than your twenty-eight instances,” Vergil quipped back.

“Eh, yeah, well, I’m three over you with Nero.”

Nero perked up. What the hell? He hadn’t fought any of the twins since their return!

Vergil snorted. “As if you’d counted for me.”

“I totally did! He’s very hot when he says our names. Catches the attention.”

Nero felt his cheeks grow hot. Okay, now, that was – huh – nice, but he hadn’t the faintest idea of what –

“You’re far too invested in those things. I’d be very surprised if you could count your fingers during sex, and even more surprised if you could count the number of times he’d called for us.”

What.

“_I_’m the generous one. I suck him off far more often than you do.”

“Yes, I do remember every blessed moment of silence that this earns us.”

_What_.

“So you _do _agree that Nero calls my name more often when we have sex.”

_What the fuck_.

“I never said that.”

The _fuckers_. The fucking... fuckers.

They were keeping score even in _this_. Nero was so floored with outrage that he didn’t even know what to shout first.

“You implicitly did.”

“You’re a child.”

“Takes one to know one!”

Vergil groaned with a pain so strong that it felt almost physical. Dante snickered, sounding supremely satisfied with himself.

“It’s been a while since I shut you off, brother.” Vergil’s voice – pondering, as if lost in reflection.

“What a coincidence! I was just thinking that it’d been a while since I’ve seen you on your knees, too.”

“Shall we?”

“You guys know that I can hear everything, right?” Nero shouted at the mezzanine.

Silence fell so hard, he almost heard the impact. He rose and climbed the stairs three steps at a time.

The brothers were busy looking relaxed, somewhat reminiscent of two panthers caught mauling the new hire by their keeper. Vergil was actively losing his gaze in the distance; Dante had his everything-is-fine grin on. Each twin was at one side of the mezzanine, fiddling with their weapons.

Nero wanted to explode from anger, laughter, or both. But he was in control of himself, and he didn’t care about the fact that his thirst for violence had grown since his demonic transformation – or rather, he cared and he worked hard on it and he breathed deeply and crossed his arms, all four of them (when had the demon arms deployed? He really had to be careful with the fuckers), and glared at them.

And growled. Fuck. The growl hadn’t been on purpose. This habit was all Vergil’s, originally – low, throaty growls that were far more evocative than human words, except that Nero was human, except that the sound came so naturally to him…

“You fuckers are _keeping score _when we make l– when we have _sex_?”

Vergil uttered a soft, grunting sound that didn’t mean fuck all. 

Dante grinned with the easy tilt to his lips that meant he was feeling trapped. “Well, it _may _have happened.”

Nero pinched the bridge of his nose hard, struggling to keep his composure. Demon-fueled rage swirled within him, stoked further by human insecurities.

_Fucking stupid _insecurities that he hated and raged at and _still_.

“How can you be so _fucking obsessed _with – how the fuck – do you _always _think about competition? Do you fucking count kisses or hello, too?”

Vergil kept carefully still. Dante looked briefly guilty.

_Fuckers_.

“You _do_! You’re the fucking worst!”

“Listen, Nero –”

“Don’t fucking ‘listen’ me!”

“We don’t _always _do it–” Dante tried to argue.

“It’s our way of being together,” Vergil said quietly.

Which was just as well, because curiosity quieted the lashing that Nero was about to give to Dante. 

Nero glowered at Vergil. “Explain.”

“We’ve always lived – existed – through conflict. If we are not fighting, we have to find… outlets. Competition.”

Well, that made depressing sense. Nero rubbed his temples, hard.

“That’s so stupid,” he declared in a low, harsh voice. 

He didn’t even want to fight anymore. His two fucking lov – his fam – Dante and Vergil… The two fuckers were thinking about each other even when they were boning him.

It turned out his happy little incestuous threesome was dysfunctional. Who’d have thunk?

He felt only disgust. At them, at himself, at the whole situation.

Well, and anger. He felt that, too. But anger was so familiar to him he’d rarely noticed it anymore – a faithful companion. Disgust, sadness – those were harder, because he usually pummeled them with rage well enough that he rarely felt overwhelmed by them.

Tears prickled at Nero’s eyes; he roughly pressed the heel of his hands against them, trying to push them down with violence. _The family way_, Dante had said once, a private joke between the three of them.

It didn’t work.

Demon methods rarely did, when the problem was human weakness.

“Nero.” His name wrapped in Vergil’s voice, tinged with something urgent. Nero raised his head sharply, ready to snap back, just as he felt the two twins dash forward – faaar too fucking fast, and Nero stepped back instinctively when he found himself crowded. Sometimes, he hated the height they had over him (okay, all the time).

“Hey!” he shouted. Not his most eloquent hour.

“You’re crying,” Vergil said as if he was noting something important and dangerous that required an immediate report of action.

“I’m not! I’m, uh –”

And then his father’s hands were on his face, thumbs dipping into the curve of his tears. Nero tried to bat his hands away, scowling, but Dante caught it. “Hey. What’s on your mind?”

“None of your fucking business,” Nero snarled. His voice sounded too raw and he hated it. “Seriously, you don’t see the problem with the fact that you keep thinking about each other even when you’re with me?”

He tried to break free, but now Vergil was moving behind him, his breath at Nero’s throat, and Dante held his wrists. They’d forgotten his claws; he deployed them, ready to use them and –

Fuuuck, that was the floor against his face. When had the world changed axis? When his fucking father had swiped his legs out from under him, the two brothers instantly kneeling to hold him down.

“Dante! Vergil!”

“We want to explain,” Vergil said as if there was nothing more logical and efficient than pancaking your son to make him listen.

At least, Nero didn’t want to cry anymore: he wanted to _murder them_ instead.

“If I have to break free by force –”

“Listen, you’re thinking about Vergil when we have sex, right?” Dante asked.

“_What_?”

Still, yeah – hard to be with one twin without thinking of the other: similar faces, similar hunger, and yet two entirely different way of lov – touching and owning, Dante’s fake-casual demonstrativeness against Vergil’s rare, intent gestures of affection.

“And you think about Dante when you’re alone with me,” Vergil pressed.

Okay, Nero saw their point. He twisted his neck to look at them, trying to struggle against Vergil’s weight on his hips and the twins’ grip on his four arms.

“I – okay, yes! So I do that! We’re in a three-ways relationship. But I don’t use you at some kind of competitive tool!”

“We’re sharing you,” Vergil stated. “Do you know how hard it is for us to share?”

“For _you_,” Dante retorted. “Always was ready to share my stuff.”

“Because it was mine and you’d stolen it.”

“You’re just petty.”

“If you two dumbasses don’t unhand me this instant –”

“The point is,” Vergil cut quickly, “that we’re rivals, and bad at sharing.”

“So we compete as an outlet,” Dante continued. “You, I can share Vergil with. I don’t see you as an enemy, see? I trust you far more than I trust your old man. I know you won’t hurt him or steal him. But him? Yeah, it’s harder.”

Dante’s tone was matter-of-fact. Nero’s heart stopped a moment – partly because he felt calm truth in it, because he was _trusted_ more than Vergil, more than Dante’s other half. He needed a moment to process it. And a lot of willpower to crush the fucking stupid butterflies that were crowding his chest for some reason.

Partly, though, it was pain, because Dante was basically saying he didn’t trust his brother, that he fucking saw him as an _enemy_, and yet Vergil’s grip on Nero’s demon arm remained calm and steadfast. They were _kin _and _twins _and yet he knew and accepted his little brother’s words like familiar obviousness.

“I’d have killed any other than Dante,” Vergil said calmly – almost thoughtfully, as if commenting about a peculiar patch of weather. “I dislike sharing. I accept doing so with you because you, too… are… worthy of it.”

“That’s fucked-up,” Nero said slowly.

“We’re an incestuous threesome,” Dante pointed out.

“I – okay, but you’re not enemiesanymore!”

Silence.

Dumbasses. Nero struggled to get free; the twins resisted instinctively.

“Listen, if you don’t let me go _now_, I’m going to be _seriously _angry, okay?”

They let go. He rose up to his feet, rubbing his face where the floor had began to imprint on it, and glared at them.

“You’re _not _enemies. You’re – fuck, you’re so happy together! You’re always smiling and quipping at each other, you do dumb shit together, you – that’s not being enemies! You’re just – you just want to seem like you don’t care, but you fucking do and that’s so stupid!”

Nero knew the twins well enough now that he noticed Vergil’s minute frown and Dante’s attempt at hiding his nervousness under a reflex smile. _Good_.

“You know what?” he continued, far past caring at this point. “I’m going to win a first that none of you are able to achieve: I fucking love you! And you can’t fucking say it, because that’d mean you’d have to show you’re not just impervious badasses!”

It struck home, Nero could tell, because they both stared at him like he’d just told them the most forbidden secret in the history of humanity.

And they blushed.

He’d just made these two grown men – the most feared men both above and below ground, the legendary demon hunter Dante and the ex-king of Hell Vergil – he’d just made them _blush_.

Nero grinned. “_You can’t say it_,” he repeated, delighted. “It’s fucking obvious that you love each other and you can’t even say it!”

Dante winced. Vergil twitched. Nero was absolutely pushing his luck, but he couldn’t stop. Seeing them react that vividly, the feeling that he’d found one of their vulnerabilities – that was far too (hot) fun. He wanted to (see them more undone, wanted the taste of power and victory over them) bully them a bit further, consequences be damned.

“You’re almost twice my age and _I’m _the one that prevents you from killing each other when you never wanted to in the first place and _I’m _the one who has to state your own damn feelings. Seriously, don’t you feel bad that the _kid_, nah, the _deadweight _in the room is the one who –”

Nero was expecting the attacks, if only because he _did _deserve it (a bit). He’d just forgotten how ruthlessly efficient the twins could be when they had a common goal. He defended himself as best as he could without damaging the _Devil May Cry _too much, getting a few good punches in before the twins managed to catch his arms and crowd around him too close for a good kick. They pushed him against the wall, hard enough that his bones rattled, and Vergil’s hand pressed against his lips, Dante’s teeth closed on his throat, and _fuck_, he shouldn’t have found that so hot, except he did. His heart was beating hard against his ribs and he couldn’t stop grinning against Vergil’s palm – opened his jaw just enough to lick warm skin and see Vergil’s pupils grow so much larger.

Dante bit his throat – a small nip of his teeth, molten heat bursting out in Nero’s veins from his throat to every fiber of his being. When his uncle spoke, his breath was a hot, infuriatingly intangible caress against Nero’s skin.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re too grudgy and too bratty for your own good, kid?”

“What, you can dish it but you can’t take it?” Nero quipped back, muffled as it was against Vergil’s palm. The pain of the bite lingered, sending shivers down his spine, and the threat of an encore was making his stomach tighten.

Dante bit him again, a bit harsher, and Nero’s knees buckled. There was the hint of a growl before a laugh caressed against his skin in a hot, short burst of air. He was reasonably sure he hadn’t gasped out loud. Probably sure. Vergil chuckled.

“Really, Dante. How did you raise him?”

“Think we already went over the fact that you don’t ‘raise’ a teenager, brother.”

“Where there’s a will, there’s a way.”

The angle really wasn’t conducive to it, but Nero attempted a kick all the same. The bastards _laughed _at the same time and then they were descending upon him – Dante holding his wrists as his teeth and slight stubble scraped against Nero’s throat, softening when he reached the corner of Nero’s jaw and the line of his collarbone, while Vergil one-handedly divested Nero of his belt. The pressure of the palm that muffled Nero had increased and he debated a bite just to prove a point, except that Vergil would retaliate, of course, and –

– Was that a problem?

He might have answered _yes_ if Dante hadn’t been in the course of divesting blood flow from his upper head to the lower one, sparks of pleasure dancing under Nero’s skin. Those infuriatingly shallow bites, the teasing caress of Dante’s mouth – fuck, Nero needed _more _and he was going to _take it_.

Vergil must have felt his intent because he pressed harder, harsher, and Nero summoned his spectral arms instead, digging his claws deep into his father’s arm. _That _got him a reaction, a low subhuman growl – no anger yet, but swift retribution in the way Vergil shoved Dante away to bite the curve of his shoulder. Pain, pleasure and demonic outrage-delight flooded Nero’s mind and he shouted, grabbing at Vergil’s arm with blunt nails and flesh-rending claws. He smelled Vergil’s blood and he didn’t manage to care about how fucked-up this was because _that _was good, _that _was what he needed, wanted: the pain and the fight and for the twins to take him seriously. _Hurt me. Try to keep me down. I can take it. _The temptation of Triggering danced under his skin, electric. He bit a kiss from Vergil’s mouth, got a growl and a shove for his trouble.

They naturally went to the floor, half-dragging each other and sharing bloody love bites on the way. Vergil’s hands on him were just this side of swift, borderline-rough efficiency that it belied lust and Nero loved it. His father was so fucking hard to goad into action, but once he was into it –

Too-sharp teeth bit Nero’s lips, an inhuman tongue sliding between his teeth. Oh, _yeah_. He easily got out of his boxers, but Vergil, the asshole, still wore about a hundred layers closed with a few thousands of buckles and straps, and thank the Savior Dante was here, chuckling as he helped Nero get rid of the most offending articles, Vergil moving to help his brother even as he kissed Nero with hungry focus.

“Want to fuck you,” Nero demanded when they separated.

He felt dizzy, euphoric with need and triumph. Who was Vergil looking at with this quiet, implacable _want_, blue fire warming the ice of his eyes? Who was Vergil touching like a precious possession to keep for himself, nails scratching skin as if to better engrave ownership into his flesh? Nero. Nero alone.

“Now,” Vergil breathed against his earlobe, dragging a shiver out of him. “I’m two kisses over Dante this week.”

Nero was going to _kill _the fucker.

He Triggered with a roared, “Fuck you,” and surged at Vergil to maul him or pin him or _he didn’t know. _His instincts were roaring in his ears, his belly, and Vergil laughed in his quiet, demonic way and Triggered in turn to meet him head-on. They wrestled and he could feel the difference in their strength, feel the arousal it fueled in him, to know this; to thrash and to grab and to tear, to bite – blood on his tongue, pain and pleasure intertwined in him like insatiable monsters. Suddenly, someone grabbed his horns, forcing him to raise his head, and Dante’s lips crashed on his. Nero bit back instantly and his uncle grunted but took the pain, licked at his bloody teeth, trying to placate him. The submission Nero read in that clenched something hard in his belly. He opened his mouth, accepted the kiss, and Vergil’s hands on his flanks turned soft enough to make him shiver. Vergil’s lips moved down his torso, tongue dipping into the blue light that lined his abs, and oh, _fuck_,was that supposed to feel _this _good? He’d never made love in demon form before, and a small surge of human moral panic hit him before oversensitive, half-electric pleasure shot through his muscles, making him arch and whine in Dante’s mouth.

“One,” Dante whispered against Nero’s lips.

It took him a moment to get it. _This fucking competition thing_. He growled with fury, but Vergil was still tonguing at the light at Nero’s stomach, his inhumanly hot tongue scraping against inner not-nerves that shivered with delight, and Nero’s anger was becoming dulled by pleasure and by the way Dante had tried to (_show submission_) placate him.

“Why… is that… so fucking important,” he panted.

Dante’s smile was demonic and full of sharp teeth, lava-red eyes shining with something delighted.

“‘Cause you’re important.”

All of a sudden, it made _sense_, as it shouldn’t have when most of Nero’s brain was focused on his father’s obscene tongue dragging along his flesh and down to the vee of his hips, on the two pairs of skilled hands brushing again and again against the curves of his flanks and the vulnerability of his throat.

_’Cause you’re important_. Fighting for the reason of their existence, fighting for him, fighting for everything because maybe it wasn’t as dramatic as they say – they weren’t _enemies_, damn it, they were bickering brothers that had more fun than they could tell through their petty rivalry – but it was their way of existing: to quarrel again and again about what they – liked?

What they found important.

The realization bloomed in Nero’s chest, warm and human. He grabbed Dante and kissed him deeply, softly. _Love you so much_. A gasp tore out of Nero when Vergil’s mouth reached between his legs, tonguing at the slit there, and Nero thrashed at the sensation, pure, foreign pleasure curling his talons. He whined low and Dante froze for a moment, then laughed and peppered small kisses on his face.

“So cute, Nero.”

“Fuck… you!”

“Utterly adorable.”

Nero groaned dramatically, more for the principle of it than out of real exasperation, and Dante chuckled. Vergil’s fingers had joined his tongue, slowly sliding deeper and deeper into Nero, coaxing protective scales open. Nero couldn’t stop shivering from the strange pleasure of it, ribbons of noise tearing themselves out of his throat. It felt _weird_. Good. So fucking good. The scales shouldn’t have been sensitive, but it was like his whole body was jumping under Vergil’s touch, alien nerves fired with new eagerness. Dante was caressing Nero’s face, neck, his shoulder, humming happily at his reactions.

Then Nero felt it: his body _really _opening under Vergil’s mouth, something unsheathing, and his father rewarded it with a slow, slow stroke of his tongue along the ridges and the light-filled crevices of it, and the noises Nero made then would have been embarrassing if he hadn’t been too aroused for shame. Vergil’s tongue slid downward still, past the root of Nero’s shaft and toward the wetness of open flesh. Nero would have wondered at this shape being – intersex? And Nico would surely be fascinated by the fact, but he found it hard to really _care _when everything felt so sensitive and painfully (perfectly) intense and his father was licking deeper _into him_, far deeper than a human tongue would have, leaving trails of burning ecstasy in his wake. Nero bucked, keening at the sensation.

“Ffffuuuuck...”

“Such eloquent praise,” Vergil commented against the length of his erection.

“Fuck o-off – no!” he choked out when his father _dared _to pull away.

“Well, you told me to fuck off.”

“I-I wasn’t – fuck you, I – get back!”

“How about a challenge. Every second you manage not to say ‘fuck’, you get a treat.”

Nero attempted to kick him, frustrated at the ease with which Vergil caught his ankle. “Fuck you!”

“My point exactly.”

“Want some help, Nero?” Dante’s voice sounded calm, almost, but there was this hint of a panting growl in its demonic harmonic, and his sweaty hands on Nero’s skin betrayed his easy smile. He wanted...

“Dante,” Nero gasped.

He probably had a sentence in mind, an order, but need was eating away at his eloquence right now and he just knew that he needed something, anything – but Dante laughed, wild demonic echoes overcoming humanity in his voice, and Nero shoutedwhen rough, leathery fingers gripped his cock. It took just this, the scrape of rough fingers pressing firmly around his length from root to the head, pressing under the ridge, and then climax was hitting Nero harder than a jackhammer. Blind pleasure snuffed his voice out as Vergil plunged his tongue deep inside him just then, twisting and pressing and _fuck fuck fuck _so good, so good, he couldn’t, he couldn’t, he was going to –

Come apart, edged and pressed by the twins, thrashing against Vergil’s iron grip on his thigh, incoherent, shuddered demands and pleas and moans mixing together in a whine as orgasm overcame him.

He came down reluctantly, heart still beating too hard and fast. Fuck, that’d been great. Absolutely, one hundred percent not the kind of thing he’d think or confess he was into until then, but – so good.

Vergil and Dante looked at him expectantly, still in demon-shape. For once, they weren’t saying anything sassy, the scent of their arousal tight and almost dizzying. With some effort, Nero managed to cock an eyebrow at them.

“So you’ve reconciled, right?”

Both of them looked hilariously offended. Nero crossed his arms, faking a resolve that he honestly couldn’t muster after the bone-shaking climax that still clung to him.

“Gonna need a few to recover from this, so if you want something, you’re gonna get it from each other.”

Dante almost managed a, “C’mon,” before Vergil tackled him. They both rolled around, but the wrestling was not all violence this time – barely different to the naked eye, but the bestial part of Nero _felt _the difference, the way the brothers clawed-caressed and bit-kissed as they struggled for dominance. Vergil ended up on top, hands clutching Dante’s wrists, and smirked with cold satisfaction. His wings unfolded all around them, shimmering with light as they intertwined with his brother’s, and then his tail was reaching between Dante’s legs and doing something that Nero’s couldn’t quite see. For a second, he feared that his uncle and father were trying some definitively unsexy version of impalement, except that Vergil lowered himself and inhaled sharply and Dante hissed –

_Fuck_. He’d been holding Dante’s erection into place to fuck himself onto it. Arousal came back running, hitting Nero with a grin and a warm welcome shot in the face. He fumbled to get up, too fascinated to remember how to move properly, and moved closer to see. The arc of Vergil’s body was taut, his face – mirror to Dante in that shape, ageless youth mixed with demonic fire and scales – tense; his brow was pinched and he was worrying at his lips.

“Should have let me open you up, dumbass,” Dante said fondly. There was a growling edge to his voice that betrayed his appearance of control, and his wings were trembling against Vergil’s, but he was keeping still.

“I can take it,” Vergil bit out. He forced himself to sit lower, growling at the sensation.

“Have you heard of ‘feeling good’?”

“I sleep with you. Draw your own conclusion.”

“Aw, thanks for the praise,” Dante said, grinning. Vergil gave him the shadow of a smirk and then lowered himself entirely, shuddering. Nero moved to his father’s back, carefully touching the twins’ wings.

“Hey, can I come closer?”

“Nero?” Vergil asked tensely, not only from the pain.

Most of the time, he was okay with having someone at his back, but less so when he was feeling vulnerable – when he was split open on his brother’s cock, for instance.

“Wanna see you closer,” Nero asked softly.

Sometimes, he demanded or pushed, and sometimes, especially when Vergil was in that mood, it was better to request or say please, to nuzzle and affect human gentleness. The twins didn’t understand softness, but it didn’t mean that they were immune to it. Nero caressed the leathery patterns of Vergil’s outside wings, feeling them shudder a bit harder at the touch, before they opened, letting him in. Dante followed suit with his own wings and then both sets instantly closed behind Nero, leaving him enclosed with the twins. He let his own wings join with them as he knelt and kissed Vergil’s nape.

Vergil inhaled, unmoving. Nero met Dante’s gaze and his uncle seemed to understand, closing his eyes as he restrained himself, panting, trembling with contained tension.

Nero kissed the dark spikes of his father’s spine, tonguing gently at the blue fire that lined the planes of his back and tracing the root of his wings with the tips of his claws – gently, and Vergil breathed silently under his hands and his mouth. He’d never touched him like that in demon form; not that he hadn’t wanted to, but the twins were careful, with him, and he’d been, well – sleeping with his close family was freaky enough without doing it in demon shape.

Well, fuck taboos. Nero could feel how much control Vergil was exerting to stay still under his hands and he loved it, loved the devil heat that would have burned his human hand and the roughness of sensitive scales.

He hadn’t realized how aroused he was until his gaze fell down where Vergil’s rim was stretched around Dante’s cock and his thoughts just _stopped_. The idiot _had _bled, and that should have been a turn-off, except that the view was obscene and Dante’s shaft was a thick, ridged thing where lines of red heat flared in intricate patterns and he wanted it in his mouth, wanted to see Vergil’s body accommodate it as the twins fucked, wanted –

He crouched down, fingers trailing along taut skin, and Vergil gave him a low rumble while Dante twitched.

“Nero–” his uncle warned. Begged. Possibly both.

“Yeah. Do it.”

Dante’s hand flew to Vergil’s hips, grabbing him as they both began moving impossibly smooth and coordinated, Vergil’s thighs flexing as he met each of his brother’s thrusts. Nero always loved to watch them when they made love, though _that _was one of the things he wouldn’t confess under torture. This close, though, seeing Vergil’s body shift and clutch around Dante’s erection, it was –

Fuck. He wanted to touch, to taste, to finger Vergil looser and – but that was –

“If you want something, Nero, _take it_.”

Vergil’s voice shouldn’t have been so commanding when he was panting and gasping and grunting from the violence of his and Dante’s coupling, but Nero felt himself tipping over the edge. He nipped at the root of Vergil’s wing, licking a wet strip to his spine, and tried to make himself say the words.

_Take it_.

“I want to fuck you.” His voice was too rough. Too growly. His sentence was pretty coherent, though. Quite a feat when lust was choking him every breath he took.

“Well?” Vergil demanded.

“At the – at the same time.” It was too much to say, too obscene, and lust and ill-placed modesty clogged his throat. He traced his father’s rim with a clawed finger, just at the part the twins joined, and felt both brothers shudder at the touch. _Yes_. He wanted, so fucking much.

“I believe – I told you to take what you wanted,” Vergil managed to grit out.

And that was all the authorization Nero needed to kiss-bite at his shoulder, slipping one finger inside, into the furnace heat of Vergil’s body. His father clenched with a throat-deep growl, Dante moaning in delight.

“Fuck, Nero, that’s so hot–”

Nero groaned in agreement, pressing flush against Vergil. Waiting for his father to relax around the intrusion was torture, but he didn’t want to hurt him even though his demon was panting for it, even though part of him was screaming that Vergil had forced himself open on Dante’s cock, so, surely, he wouldn’t mind –

No.

Nero was outright moaning with need by the time Vergil was able to take a third finger – blessed be demonic toughness for its tolerance toward tough, hard claws in sensitive places. Lube would have been a good idea, except Nero was thinking with his demonic dick, which didn’t pay things like “slickness” and “care” any mind. Vergil seemed to agree, skin shining with sweat and muscle trembling from effort. Dante was keeping to slow shoves, Nero caressing both the length of his cock and the hot clutch of Vergil’s inner muscle from the inside – a filthy, obscene thing, tasting the twins’ quivers and vocal groans when he curled his fingers just right. Vergil was usually pretty quiet, so the times when he got noisy were the best. The hottest. Nero was so keyed up, he kept forgetting how to breathe right.

“Nero. _Now_.” Vergil’s voice was a growl that spoke of torn flesh and spilled blood if Nero dared disobey.

Nero stopped moving, paralyzed. Every inch of his body desperately wanted to do precisely what was asked of him, but the rest was very aware of the fact that it was going to hurt.

“Nero.” The intonation was so similar to Vergil that it took him a second to realize that Dante had been the one to speak. “Don’t make me strangle you.”

“Fuck you,” Nero bit out as he pulled his fingers out. Not his brightest response, but a good go-to answer in case of needs and inarticulateness.

He pulled Vergil open with his thumbs to guide himself inside, and the noise the twins made then – feral, inhuman need – poured sparkling heat down Nero’s spine.

He’d been right. Vergil was still too tight, painfully so, shuddering with silent pain as his body quivered around the intrusion. It hurt and yet it felt fucking _amazing_, demon sensations and human taboos making Nero shake as he tried to hold his father’s hips. Fuck. _Fuck_. Dante’s cock against his was thick, undoubtedly inhuman, strange bumps and ridges pressing and rubbing against Nero’s as they struggled to find the right position. Nero closed his eyes, struggling against raw pleasure as it threatened to send him over the edge. Not yet. Not before he could really enjoy it.

Dante swore quietly. He sounded as wrecked as Nero felt, which was something of a consolation.

“_Damn_, Vergil, you’re – so fucking gorgeous.”

“Narcissist.” Vergil’s voice was breathy, fraught with tension, yet entirely too composed for the situation. Dante laughed a bit too wildly and grabbed him for a kiss, shakily caressing the ridge and scale of his flanks. An excited thrill ran down Nero’s spine. Vergil still hadn’t entirely relaxed, slowly accommodating their intrusion as Dante petted and kissed him, but Nero _wanted_ –

_If you want something, take it_, Vergil had said.

Well, Nero was nothing if not a good son in the worst ways.

He moved, and couldn’t bite back a choked moan at the sensation. Vergil made a small, shuddering noise and lowered himself against Dante, opening up a better angle for Nero.

Nero felt drunk, head too light, hands too rough, lust and pleasure coiled so tight in his muscles that it approached pain. It wasn’t only the sensations or the situation – it was the affection the twins were showing each other right now, the kisses and bites and their hands on each other’s body. It was so fucked-up that Nero should get off on human tenderness as he was fucking his father and his uncle but he was, liquid electricity throbbing under his skin.

“You’re so hot,” he whispered brokenly. He hadn’t meant to talk out loud and blushed when the twins chuckled tenderly at that.

“You’re not that bad either,” Vergil drawled.

Which meant that it was _more _than time to move and shut him up.

The angle was far than ideal, sprawled on the floor, but the sensation and the situation more than made up for it – the infernal heat of it all, the tight clutch of Vergil’s body around Dante and him as they fucked him, feeling the press and ridges of his uncle’s dick as their erections rubbed and caught against each other in an impossibly arousing way. The smell of his family was all around him, the hint of humanity almost overpowered by the sharp scent of demon flesh, the cloying taste of blood, the musky tang of arousal that fed his own. Even Dante’s vocal moans and praises couldn’t completely drown out the filthy noise of their coupling; Vergil’s skin under Nero’s tongue tasted like sweat and hell and he loved it, loved the hand his father kept clenched on his arm as Nero fucked him loose, marked him, feeling inner muscles yield to his and Dante’s onslaught. His. _Theirs_. He was vaguely aware of the embarrassing mess of confession he was pouring between his father’s shoulder blades and he couldn’t care less, swept by the tide of pleasure that slashed through him. _So good, so fucking good, love you _–

Nero shouted mutely when he came, choked into silence and near-unconsciousness by the pain-bordering intensity of his climax. He recovered slowly, realized belatedly he was now lying between the twins. They’d returned to human shape, but their intertwined bodies kept him closer than the cage of their wings had. Nero wasn’t about to ever confess it, but _maybe_, sometimes, he _did _enjoy their height.

“So,” Dante said, nuzzling at Nero’s nape, kissing close-shaved hair, “when are we doing that again?”

Nero felt pleasantly bruised and spent and incredibly ready for an encore. Vergil’s hand touched his temple lightly, almost like a kiss.

“Dante would like to try this time.”

Nero pictured it, pictured Dante split open between them, panting and moaning and attempting dirty talk as they fucked him into silence, and yeah, he was game. More than game. Dante’s hands brushed along the curves of Nero’s ribs, the vulnerability of his flanks, the jut of his hips. Nero moaned low, arching into the touch.

“Oh,” Vergil said suddenly, as if struck by a passing thought. “Nero?”

“Yeah?”

“I… enjoy being with the two of you.”

Nero blinked. Dante made a noise of outrage.

“You fucker!”

“First. After Nero.”

There was cold and _utterly puerile _satisfaction in Vergil’s voice. Nero gaped at him, dumbstruck.

“That – are you serious?”

“Yeah, that’s not a declaration at all!” Dante rallied happily. “You’re so terrible at this, my poor, _poor _emotionally stuck-up brother.”

“I’m eager for your attempt then, Dante.” Vergil smirked at his twin’s silence. “Well, well. Waiting for that, it looks like I’ve won for now.”

“Only you dumbasses would make a love confession into a competition,” Nero pointed out without heat. They’d never grow out of it, would they? He directed his best grin to Vergil. “It’s said ‘I love you.’ Isn’t too hard, yeah? You can even add an insult at the end if it’ll make you feel better.”

Vergil looked at him expressionlessly. After a beat, he pressed his fingers to Nero’s lips.

“‘_Fools_.”

“You’re supposed to say the first part first,” Dante suggested oh so helpfully.

“Bold of you to correct me when you haven’t even reached my level of intimacy yet.”

“Well – maybe I’m – waiting to do it in style.”

“We are certainly waiting.”

Nero snickered despite himself. A few weeks, maybe days ago, he’d have been heartbroken. Now… he was learning, little by little, how to cohabit with those two dumb sons of a – of a devil.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m very touched by all this romance,” he drawled. “Now you’re both going to carry me to Vergil’s bed before I fall asleep right here, right?”

Vergil raised an eyebrow. “_We_’re going to carry you?”

“I deserve it for putting up with your bullshit.”

Dante laughed. “Well, he’s not wrong. You want a princess carry?”

Nero pondered the topic for a second.

“Nah. On your shoulders.”

Vergil grunted his disapproval. Nero untangled himself from the twins’ embrace with some regret, but laughed when Dante grabbed him to seat him on his shoulders. This was the dumbest idea, if only because they were going to hit all the door frames on their way, but worth it just for Vergil’s expression of pure pain.

Sometimes, they drove him up the wall, but Nero loved those idiots so, so fucking much.

And anyway, whatever they thought? _He _was the one that was winning at their relationship.


End file.
